


Eight Pack

by agoodwoman



Series: Instinct Over Reason [1]
Category: The X-Files RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 18:56:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4447871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodwoman/pseuds/agoodwoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Los Angeles 1997 Emmy's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eight Pack

They had arrived in Los Angeles on a mid afternoon flight on Saturday, September 13. Her date had mentioned how lucky they were it wasn't last year and on a Friday. He talked about lucky and unlucky numbers being part of an overall management scheme for his physical health and mental wellness. Behind his back, David rolled his eyes at her to a degree she didn't know was possible.

 

As they were waiting for their baggage, Rodney was talking with one of the writers that would be allowed to accept a trophy if they won. When she was informed of her nomination they asked her if she would be bringing someone. Such a statement to have a plus one when coffee between friends in Los Angeles is a budding romance, a movie premiere together is serious romance and awards shows could mean wedding bells. The fact that one of them was married never made a difference if David and Gillian did anything together outside of work, so they didn't. The press saw them as having an affair or hating one another and there was never an in between. Sometimes there wasn't but they didn't need to write about it.

 

"Did you really have to bring The Muscle?" David said, coming up behind her.

 

Gillian looked over her shoulder to study him and made a disapproving face at his newest nickname. He made a remark once about Clyde not being in her league, no matter how wonderful he was to her and how happy she was when they got together. Occasionally, his disapproval for her choice of sexual partner was muttered when they were alone. She was nice to his girlfriends, asked them about themselves and gave him space when they came to visit on set. Not David; he behaved like the perpetual big brother, believing no one had the right thing to keep her happy. It was at the very least, rather annoying.

 

"Is that what you're calling him now?" Gillian asked. "The Muscle?"

 

"He has them," he replied. Gillian nodded and David made a face.

 

"What does it matter? You didn't want to go together," she reminded him.

 

He was going with his wife, as he should.

 

"I didn't think it was that serious with you two," he said, making a nonchalant gesture of shoving his hands in his pockets like he was an adolescent.

 

"He makes me happy," she reminded him. "But I know how that can interfere with things on your end."

 

David gave a fake laugh. "Ha ha. It doesn't."

 

"Gla!" Rodney called at motioned his head toward the belt that was now starting to roll.

 

"I fucking hate it when he calls you that," David said and brushed past her to go talk with Chris.

 

The cast and crew took an SUV to get to their hotel. Gillian chose to ride near the front away from David sandwiched between Rodney and the window. Between final dress fittings, make up testing and a hair trial, it would be a busy afternoon at the hotel.

 

They would be getting ready in a two bedroom suite with a large living space and kitchenette. Being a nominee, she had to admit, had it's perks. Rodney reminded her how fake everything was after she got dressed back into a black pencil skirt and fitted white tee.

 

"When you get back you still have to pick up the dog shit, clean up after your kid and work a 14 hour day," he said undoing the pants he was set to wear tomorrow.

 

The look the stylist approved of for him, all black and no tie made him look dangerous and sexy. She liked it.

 

"You know, Gla, I think you gotta be real tomorrow when you win," he said. "Say some real shit."

 

"I'm not going to win," she said dismissively and started to look for her flip flops.

 

They couldn't have gone far. No one in Los Angeles in their right mind wear them. People frequently told her they were awful. Stubbornly, it made her love them more. When you're the shortest actress on the call sheet and they have to invent a special box to stand on so you and your co-star can be in the same tight-shot, your height becomes a sensitivity.

 

"You are. You did some really good shit last year," he said.

 

"Just last year?" she said, raising an eyebrow at him and went back to trying to find her shoes. "Where the fuck are my fucking flip flops!"

 

"Wanna go for a ciggy?" he offered, holding up his fingers in a V like it was holding an invisible cigarette.

 

Los Angeles hotels had become much more PC and they had to smoke in a designated area near the back of the pool area. It felt like high school, with the smoke pit being off the drama and shop rooms, where the misfit kids hung out. Misfit kids that either turned into drug addicts and transients or ascended into television stardom like her.

 

"No, I just need to relax before dinner," she said. "If you're going can you grab me a diet coke?"

 

"Not all that aspartame shit, Rodney said, rolling his eyes. "What about the non-sweet tea?"

 

"Whatever," she said and gave up on her shoes for the time being. A nap would be helpful for her mood.

 

Later than night, as the cast, crew and Chris at dinner together, Gillian noticed David get up to the bathroom a few times. He sat down heavily on the booth next to her when he returned.

 

"You have a bladder infection or something?" she asked and he made a face. "You've gone to the bathroom three times since we sat down."

 

"Checking in with Tea," he explained.

 

"Where is she?" she asked, looking down the table. "Why aren't you staying there?"

 

There is the house they bought together shortly after being married. She says shortly because when you date someone for 8 weeks before marrying, buying property together is obviously the next step. She bites back the comments because in all reality, they had known each other before that. The length of a courtship obviously didn't matter when she had dated Clyde for quite a few months before getting married and everyone was well aware how that turned out.

 

"She had the flu and didn't want me to catch it, she's coming here in the morning," he explained as his hand landed on her knee and he drew a finger up her thigh. "Where's the Muscle?"

 

"Talking to Glen," Gillian said, nodding her chin towards the other end of the table. She ignored the hand, believing every touch from him was not to be misconstrued as affection or care. "Why are you so bent on him right now? Did he insult your dog or something?"

 

"I just didn't think it was serious enough that you would bring him," he said, continuing drawing patterns on her thigh. After a beat he asked, "Does this bother you?"

 

Gillian looked down where his hand was and then up to his face. Even when he slouched they didn't meet eye to eye. She wondered if that said something for their entire relationship.

 

"I don't take it personally anymore," she said and put her hand over his. He pulled his hand away and she caught it, linking her fingers between his. "Relax. We're just holding hands."

 

"Even with Eight Pack at the other end of the table?" he leered.

 

"Oh that one's my favourite, you can keep that one," she laughed.

 

David shifted in his seat but didn't try to pull his hand away then. "Does he really have an eight pack?"

 

Gillian looked down at where the ruggedly-handsome, American born but Canadian based actor was sitting. He waved to Gillian and David, who waved back with their free hands.

 

"He does," she said, still smiling at Rodney.

 

"Guess you have ample time to work on your body if you're not working at a job or reading books," David scoffed.

 

He looked good without his shirt on, she didn't know what bothered David about that. She didn't make fun of Tea for being taller than her. In fact, she didn't talk about Tea at all.

 

Gillian poked his side and encountered muscle. "You jealous he's harder than you?"

 

David was delighted by the double entendre that was actually unintentional.

 

"Is he?"

 

Gillian sighed, satisfied. "He's something."

 

It was raining outside and Gillian looked wistfully at the weather that seemed to follow them from Canada. _What was it about rain?_

 

"It's raining," she murmured.

 

"You don't like the rain," David noted.

 

Gillian shrugged and willed her body to feel warmer. Why did she feel a chill immediately after seeing rain drops? Too many night shoots during inclement weather she supposed.

 

"I like to think of the time during the pilot when I see rain," he whispered in her ear. "Sex on a trailer floor."

 

When her married coworker made those remarks she thought better of it. She didn't like other women in her marriage and whether or not this was par for the course of David and Gillian's banter before the marriage existed, it felt wrong.

 

"You're being gross," she said and pulled her hand away quickly.

 

"I'm not," he defended. "You're being too sensitive. You _used_ to think I was funny."

 

" _I'm_ being too sensitive?" she said, her voice getting louder and they noticed faces turning to try to overhear their suddenly fascinating conversation.

 

"Keep your voice down," he scolded and she rolled her eyes. "Real mature. You know, you picked that up from your boy toy down there."

 

"You don't want me to be happy unless it's with you. And even then you weren't really about my happiness. You lost that chance when you got married so stop punishing me for moving on. You did," she replied.

 

"I love her. And I wanted a family," he replied, remembering the fight that took place before things came crumbling down around them.

 

"Then have one," she said.

 

"Not everyone hits the goal the first time," he said, looking away. The long distance marriage wasn't exactly what he wanted but he needed his space more than people usually allowed for. It's hard to do that when you're living apart from someone.

 

"From what I hear you're working on that too," she said and stood up from the table. "I'm going to bed."

 

"You barely ate anything," one of the writers noted.

 

Gillian shrugged. "Suddenly I lost my appetite."

 

She tried her best not to leave in a huff, to act like the spoiled actress and play into the part that people often thought she was. It was hard to remain collected when he got under her skin in so many ways. Ten months a year at 14 hour days with the same person was almost torturous. They were too different and too similar in all the ways that mattered. And when they tried it out for that brief time she thought, oh this is nice but then she realized it wasn't going to pan out with their work schedules and her contractual restrictions. Not as heartbreaking a realization as the finality of divorce papers but almost.

 

It was the morning after that never ended and she couldn't think of worse ways to pay for her sins.

 

Rodney caught up with her and slung his arm around her shoulders possessively. "Bad meal?"

 

"Something bad," she muttered and slammed her hand against the elevator button.

 

*************************

  
She couldn't believe they called her name, again. She couldn't believe David grabbed her shoulders and she kissed him first. Even further to the point, she couldn't believe he ignored her at the after party for three hours until they were leaving.

 

Using the bathroom was a careful maneuvering of wiggling the dress up over her hips before she could carefully hover over the bowl. Next year if she went, she would wear something more flowy.

 

She was leaving the bathrooms and coming around the long corridor when a large hand wrapped around her arm and pulled her into a handicapped bathroom.

 

"God!" she cried as tried to balance herself.

 

"No, just me," he smirked.

 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she asked.

 

"Hi, _congratulations_ ," her costar said and she scowled at him.

 

"You congratulated me already," she said, remembering as he pulled on her shoulders to kiss her on the mouth. Before she could kiss her date.

 

Of course he was the last person she wanted to see right now and he was standing between her and the door way. His cheeks were flushed and his pupils were dilated. If he hadn't been drinking, he was on something else. Leave it to him to smoke a joint at an Emmy's after party and not invite her.

 

David looked at her earnestly and she sighed.

 

"Thank you," she said.

 

"Where is it?" he asked, looking down at her empty hands. She didn't even have her purse.

 

"Rodney has it," she explained and he sighed. "Is that all?"

 

"Eight Pack holds your purse and the trophy," David said and laughed at a joke that was only funny to him. "He really is a good boyfriend."

 

"I need to leave, Gillian said and tried to reach around him for the door.

 

"Hey, I won't see you for a few days so you should stay and talk to me," he said.

 

"We see enough of each other," she snapped and immediately regretted it, seeing the look come across his face. "Sorry. I'm not sure why I'm... I'm sorry."

 

"I'm staying behind a couple of days, stay and talk to me, he repeated.

 

"In here? she looked around the handicapped bathroom and noticed there was only one chair. "There's no where to sit."

 

"Are you mad at me?" he asked as though that wasn't a possibility.

 

"Why wouldn't I be mad?" she asked, crossing her arms across her abdomen. They had a lot of conversations that mirrored a couple for two people who were not a couple.

 

David tugged on her hands and she flinched away from him before he tried again. "You didn't want me to kiss you?

 

"It's easier when you don't," she replied. She looked into his hazel eyes and she could tell what he was thinking. "Don't."

 

David dipped his head down and pressed his mouth to hers. His soft lips remained there for a few moments and he pulled away.

 

"I said don't. I mean it," she said but not pulling away.

 

"No you don't," he smirked and kissed her again.

 

Her mouth opened to his and her hands threaded in his hair. He pushed his body into hers against the wall, spreading his knees so his face lined up with hers. She could feel him hard against her belly and she wanted to slap him. She wanted to shove him away and yell at him for doing this. She kissed him back.

 

His hand traveled down her back to squeeze the flesh of her ass through her dress. The slippery material scratched against the callous under his ring finger. His roaming hand moved to the front of her dress and slowly moved up her abdomen. This dress was like a second skin and he could feel her nipples pucker under the bust.

 

Not one to remain idle, her free hand reached behind him and pulled him closer to her. To alleviate the pressure building she squeezed her thighs together and press herself to him. She wished she was wearing anything but that dress.

 

Their kisses were becoming more frantic, tongues sliding against one another. He could taste the cigarette she had earlier, the mint she had been sucking on and the lime from her soda water. The underlying taste of her, the slick feeling of her mouth, cool and refreshing. She made him feel like fire and ice at the same time.

 

She pulled her mouth away to catch her breath and he moved his mouth down to her neck.

 

"Do you remember what happened during the pilot?" he whispered against her skin.

 

"Yes," she breathed and closed her eyes.

 

You don't forget your first time with someone. She remembered every detail, as much as she tried to forget. He had someone then, too.

 

The jagged square pattern on the wallpaper of the bathroom was a better cushion than the floor of her trailer. She tried to push that memory out of her mind frequently. It would be easier to do so if she didn't have to see him all the time.

 

As he kissed along her collarbone, being careful not to nip at the skin along there. She bruised easily and once, the stubble he grew over the weekend, left her with some rather difficult to cover marks once they were back at work. He remembered those indiscretions well, even if she didn't want to.

 

Gillian fought back a moan as he kissed her and he ground himself into her. This was not the most public place they had ever done something like this. During their fling, if that's what they would label it, they found solace of the hectic schedule through the release of a mutually timed orgasm. It was messy and entirely too complicated to never talk about and when they did, they ended up in bed together. They were as emotionally constipated as the characters they played on television except they could say I love you and mean it without the world ending. They meant it, just not in the way they needed to mean it.

 

There was a knock at the door and they looked at one another in panic. _What the hell were they doing?_

 

"David!" Melanie's voice called from the other side of the door. "I need you out here."

 

Gillian wiped her mouth and looked up into his eyes.

 

"Okay just a second," he called through the door and smiled at her.

 

"Is Gillian in there with you?" Melanie whispered.

 

"Yes," Gillian whispered back and put one hand over her eyes.

 

There was a beat and no one said anything. Some voices were heard in the hall and Melanie knocked on the door once. David adjusted himself before slowly opening the door. Melanie pushed it open all the way and gave them a blank look.

 

"Stand here and talk to me," she instructed, guiding them further into the bathroom as though it appeared they were having a joint meeting.

 

"What do you-"

 

"Anything," Melanie cut Gillian off. It was a stern voice of someone who was going to keep them out of trouble, as usual.

 

"Did you eat?" David asked casually, sliding past the awkward moment of where they were and what they were just doing.

 

"I did," Melanie replied.

 

Melanie wasn't an idiot. She had found them in compromising positions before and they always had this look of avoidance on their faces. For award winning actors, they did poorly when it came to this. They were better around everyone else.

 

A string of people walked by and a few even popped their heads in to say hi. After five or ten minutes, Melanie left escorted Gillian out of the bathroom. They wouldn't see one another until the following week and by that time she could either pretend this never happened or it would come to blows.

 

 

******

 

The ride back to the hotel was quiet. Rodney had drank a bit more than usual and he was feeling the room spin. He laughed when she pointed out they weren't in a room but a limo.

 

Gillian closed her eyes also and thought back to dinner last night. She was scolding herself for what happened in the bathroom and felt as though she should have seen this coming. Perhaps she did. Perhaps it was unavoidable with them.

 

When he mentioned what happened in the pilot she knew immediately what he was referring to. They ran from the forced rain back to their respective trailers to peel off their soaked garments. It had to go to wardrobe to be washed and dried out before tomorrow's shoot. He came to her trailer to check on her and she was shivering in a bathrobe, unable to get warm.

 

"I don't like the rain," she said, her teeth chattering and her lips blue.

 

"You probably came to the wrong city to work," David noted with a smile.

 

Her eyes pulled him in and he felt if there was ever an invitation to kiss a woman, this was it. For first kisses, it was passionate and sweet. Her lips warmed quickly to his and she could feel the blood rushing to warm her body. A large hand moved from her hip to her backside and pulled her body flush to his.

 

He pulled away to pull his fleece zip up over his head, taking his white t-shirt with it. Standing before her, naked from the waist up, he was beautiful. His body was lean and taught, a man of only 28 with endless energy and the boyish smile. She found him dangerous and charming, the bad boy.

 

As they kissed, he pulled her to lie down with him. David warmed her up on the floor of her trailer with his mouth, kissing every expanse of bare skin before covering her body with his. His hands pulled at her panties and she kicked them off while he pulled down his grey sweatpants to reveal hard cock and nothing else underneath. Gillian spread her legs more and he pushed himself into her, his mouth never leaving hers. She stopped moving as she adjusted to the newness of him being inside of her. Little did she know that the phantom pangs of being stretched to accommodate him would linger there for days.

 

She would describe it as making love, because it was tender and caring but it was also fucking. When you do it in secret, hoping no one hears you outside, you're not being an adult. In all reality, the job was the most adult thing she had going for her in 1993 and it was a job where she played make-believe in a town in Canada she had only heard of two years earlier. She wasn't daft or dumb, but the bubble of the theatre world kept things simple and isolated.

 

It wasn't like theatre, where you said the same 50 pages every night for 6 months. The words sunk in and stuck. This was fast and loose. They had no time for fuck ups and every mistake with lines made her anxiety ridden she would get fired. She felt like a skittish horse or a tense cat and somehow his presence during the first few years had helped her a lot.

 

Until it didn't anymore and they were at a standstill as they were now. It wasn't because he was married. It wasn't because he had bitched about her in the press. When she asked him to talk before they came down here she tried to clear the air but he was dismissive. They wouldn't be there without each other, the fans and the crew and yet he treated everyone like it was time to move on. Move on to what?

 

Rodney reached for her hand in the back of the limo and she felt the feelings of regret bubble up. It was one thing when they first started the show and they didn't know the consequences of what they were doing. They had contractual ties to a show they were still working on. He was married and she was happy.

 

She vowed to herself as they pulled up to the hotel that she would need to make amends with what happened. It couldn't happen again.

 

 


End file.
